


Long Overdue

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, Post War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-03
Updated: 2009-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A horrible lack of judgment costs Rose and Scorpius their relationship. Can they overcome their hurt and anger and find their way back to each other?





	Long Overdue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> _a/n:  While I’d had this story poking around in my brain for a while, I really owe this whole universe to **drcjsnider** , who prompted me to actually sit down and write it and has been so supportive throughout – thank you!!!  And so many thank yous, as always, to **tombombadil** for his male insight and to **gwen1170** for being the most awesome beta ever!!_

** Long Overdue **

**_Part I – Broken_ **

“Go away!” Rose screamed for at least the third time through the closed door to her flat.  Undeterred, Scorpius pounded again, sneering at the old man who eyed him suspiciously as he entered the flat across the hall and two down, although he was sure he presented quite a sight:  standing there, clutching tight to the doorframe, his face most likely red, his hair hanging in his face, pounding upon the closed door like a man possessed.

“I’m not leaving until you open this door!”

“I told you to leave me alone!”

Scorpius took a deep, frustrated breath.  Perhaps it was time to try a different tactic.  “C’mon, Rose.  We need to talk,” he said loudly as he banged on the door with his fist.  “Let me in…I need to explain –”

“ _Explain_?”  Scorpius was startled when the door flew open.  Standing before him was a very irate, very distraught Rose, and she fixed him with the coldest gaze he’d ever seen, bar none.  She blew out an angry breath.  “And just what do you think there is to _explain_?  Don’t you understand?  I. Saw. You.”  

Her voice broke and tears began streaming down her face, but all the while, her eyes never left his, even as she wiped angrily at her cheeks.

“I _saw_ you, Scorpius.  The two of you –”

Her voice broke and she took several short breaths, no longer swiping at the tears but letting them fall, collecting momentarily at her chin and jawline before dripping down to her shirt.  Scorpius was taken aback when he realized, as he watched her try and fight her emotions, that it wasn’t coldness he saw in her gaze, it was pain – a deeply profound agony – and his heart sank further knowing that he was entirely the cause for her sorrow.

“I’m so sorry.”  He’d mumbled the words so quietly that he wouldn’t have been entirely sure he’d uttered them if she hadn’t immediately responded with a hard slap to his face.

“Go to hell!” she sobbed.  “You can’t…You aren’t allowed to come here and try to…You can’t _fix_ this!”

_Bloody fuck!  This can’t be happening!_

Scorpius opened his mouth to try and plead with her, only to be stopped dead in his tracks when she yanked the silver chain from around her neck and thrust it in his face.

_She can’t be serious_ , he thought, another wave of real alarm slamming into him.  He more than understood the implications of her actions, that accepting that necklace back from her meant they were finished.

This was not at all what he’d wanted.  

But he’d thought so, hadn’t he?  And without knowing precisely what she’d seen, Scorpius knew she’d seen enough to know that he’d questioned what she meant to him and whether or not he truly wanted to be tied down.

_Why the fuck_ had he ever agreed to go with Cora to The Leaky?  And _why the fuck_ had he ever thought that he wanted her when he had someone better waiting for him at home?

“Rose,” he croaked.  “Please…”

She shook her head defiantly and pushed the chain at him once more.  “Take it, Scorpius.”

Her jaw was clenched, her face was puffy and blotchy from crying, and her eyes blazed in fury.  Wordlessly, he reached out and took it from her.

Unable to bring himself to do anything more, Scorpius simply stood there, watching as her shoulders began to shake and she tore her eyes from his before slamming the door in his face.  He looked down at the broken necklace in his palm and back up to the door, failing to acknowledge the tears welling up in his eyes, brokenheartedly convinced that he’d just watched Rose walk out of his life for good.

**_Part II – Emptiness Like This_ **

Rose threw her head back against the pillow, her eyes clenched tightly shut, feeling those wonderfully familiar sensations coursing through her body as she imagined him.  She could almost feel him there – his luxuriously thick, silken-blond hair, his icy grey eyes, his well-toned, muscular body moving in time with hers, expertly fucking her, his name on her lips as his mouth roamed over her body.  She quickened her pace in concert with his phantom fingers, shuddering and crying out his name, visions of Scorpius – it was _always_ Scorpius – rushing through her mind as she brought herself to climax as she often did these days.

Her breathing slowed and she slowly opened her eyes, and as always, he disappeared.  Her vision blurred behind unshed tears and her fingers reached up to her neck unconsciously, still surprised when she didn’t feel the thin silver chain despite its absence for nearly six months.  At this, the tears that had been collecting in her eyes began to flow down her face, her efforts to contain them unsuccessful, and within mere moments, they had transitioned into outright sobs as she recalled the night he gave it to her. 

How he’d surprised her with it, tentatively explaining as he fastened the clasp before leaning in, kissing the side of her neck, and whispering in her ear that it had belonged to his maternal grandmother who had instructed him, before she died, to give it away only when he was sure he was in love.  And how he’d repeated the words, “I love you,” over and over again as they proceeded to make love for the first time and countless times in the year that followed.

Unable to control it, the memory transitioned to _that_ night, the night she discovered that he was questioning his commitment to her, and she was taunted by the image of Scorpius sitting at the bar of The Leaky Cauldron with _that woman_ standing between his legs, running her hands up his thighs, whispering in his ear.  She hadn’t believed it at first, telling herself she _had_ to be mistaken – that she _had_ to have misinterpreted what she was seeing – but when he stood and pulled _her_ into his arms, his hands sliding down nearly to her arse, Rose realized that it was precisely what she feared and almost immediately, her mind replayed the previous weeks and all the excuses he’d provided and she chided herself for having believed him so willingly and trusted him so implicitly.

The look of extreme guilt on his face when he’d turned and finally seen her only confirmed his indecision rather than denying it and she’d wanted to rage at him…to scream at him…to demand that he tell her the truth.  _Why_ was he doing this to her – _to them_?  And _how_ could he claim to love her – _how could he have made love to her only that morning_ – when he clearly wanted to be with someone else?

But she’d simply stood there, frozen with shock until she realized that he was coming toward her and rather than confront him, she’d pushed her way out the door and into the alleyway, somehow managing to Apparate home, even though she couldn’t remember being able to concentrate on _anything_ other than her pain and anger and humiliation and heartbreak.

She ignored his knocking at first, finally screaming at him to go away and leave her alone, and she’d only opened the door when it became clear he was going to cause a scene, but she’d refused to listen when he’d tried to explain, instead yanking the chain from her neck and returning it to him without another word.

As soon as he left, she’d owled Bill and without saying why, she’d practically begged him to transfer her somewhere – _anywhere_ – else.  He had steadfastly refused, insisting that he needed her in Britain, but he had agreed to let her leave London and sent her along on every long-term foreign assignment available, and she was gone by the following Monday without an explanation to anyone.  

She still hadn’t told anyone what had happened between her and Scorpius, and anytime she was asked, she simply shook her head and refused to speak about it, deciding that everyone could make their own assumptions.  Whether it was pride or humiliation or some warped sense of loyalty, she simply couldn’t – she simply _wouldn’t_ – admit it.  And she’d managed to stay out of London the entire six months so she hadn’t seen him in person since that night, and she’d resisted his efforts to apologize, refusing to accept his owls and gifts and messages, although each one had cut her deeply, reminding her what he’d done and what they’d lost, the deepest cut occurring only recently, when it occurred to her that they’d stopped coming and she realized that he’d finally stopped trying.

And she was angry at herself for still caring so much.  After all, from what she had seen in _The Prophet_ recently, he looked to be having the time of his life these days.  While Rose had been throwing herself into her work and traveling to as many out-of-the-country digs as Bill would allow her to, Scorpius had taken a leave of absence from Gringotts and was living off of his parents’ money, flaunting his fortune and his myriad of _girlfriends_ all over Europe, obviously more than satisfied with his current lifestyle.

_What’s wrong with me?_ she thought, wiping angrily at the tears that refused to yield to her commands to stop.  _Why can’t I forget him when he’s clearly chuffed to be rid of me?_

If she was someone else, she might have been more understanding and patient with herself, might have reminded herself that she had spent the last three years of her life loving him, planning on having a future with him, and that it would take time to accept the end of those plans.  But she _wasn’t_ someone else.  She was Rose Weasley.  She was strong and ambitious, and she was not supposed to be wallowing in her shame and heartbreak after six months.  _She_ was supposed to have moved on.

But she still missed him and, _dear Merlin_ , she still loved him, and it didn’t matter when she was in Britain or in Egypt or in Romania or even that she was currently more than five thousand miles from him, supervising a dig in Xian.  She still felt his influence and his presence in every aspect of her life.  She only hoped that being so far away for the next several months – not only from him but from Britain and her family and their curious stares and occasional questions that she had repeatedly refused to answer – would finally allow her to soothe her broken heart.  Nevertheless, when she closed her eyes and drifted into yet another night of fitful slumber, he invaded her thoughts as the memories, both good and bad, engulfed her once more.

~*~*~*~ 

Scorpius woke with a start, drenched in sweat, and he instinctively reached for her, remembering that she was gone when his hand hit the cold space beside him and he sat up awkwardly, still reeling from his dream.  _Bloody nightmare_ , he thought bitterly, as jealousy and rage built inside his gut at the thought of Rose – _his_ _Rose_ – with another man, and he rubbed his eyes, trying to remove the visions of her fucking some faceless bloke from his mind.  

_Stop it, you bloody wanker.  It was only a dream_ , he reminded himself, scrubbing his face with his hands.  _Not that you can stop her if she is shagging someone…it’s your fault she isn’t yours anymore_.

He still regretted it.  If he had a time-turner and could go back and erase every single moment of that night when his life had gone to shit, he would do it without hesitation.  

Why hadn’t he appreciated what he’d had with her?  Rose was beautiful and loving and smart…hell, she was the perfect girlfriend.  Everyone thought so, including his parents, who didn’t much care for her family but were quite fond of Rose, and his mother had even started pressing him to propose to her, perhaps on Rose’s twentieth birthday she had mused, unaware that by pressuring him, Asteria was, in actuality, ensuring that he wouldn’t comply.  And when he looked back on it, trying to figure out how it had all transpired, Scorpius realized that it was Rose’s _perfection_ and his parents’ approval which had most likely fueled his belief that he was simply bored with his life and that he was simply bored with her.

The arrival of Cora Pappas at Gringotts had only added to his indecision, and no matter that his infatuation with her had since passed, he still remembered being introduced to her and thinking that she was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes upon, with her dark olive skin and black hair.  And unlike Rose, she was loud and casual and spoke her mind without thinking, and he’d been fascinated with her _utter imperfection_ , the knowledge that his mother would never approve of her only increasing his attraction to her, and before he knew it, he found himself making excuse after excuse to Rose as to why he was working later and later, night after night.  

He did feel guilty that Rose – ever the understanding girlfriend – never questioned him, never doubted his reasons as to why he wasn’t coming to her flat on the nights he worked late, believing his excuses.  But in reality, on those evenings, he had gone home and wanked to thoughts of fucking Cora over his desk or in the narrow corridor leading to her office or even up against the wall in the Gringotts alleyway.  The truth of the matter was, the longer he was around her, the more he wanted her, and it had become more and more difficult to keep his hands off of her, and he really wanted to know the answer to the question that most plagued his mind – if he _really_ loved Rose enough to marry her, would he be lusting after another woman so desperately?

And he certainly should have known better than to join Cora for a celebratory drink at The Leaky Cauldron on the evening they finished up the two-week project they’d been assigned to.  The signs had been there all along and she had made it more than clear that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, but he _should have_ declined her invitation.  Just like he _shouldn’t have_ lied to Rose and told her that he was having an impromptu dinner with his grandparents.

But he’d thrown caution and all good sense to the wind and spent the evening getting pissed on Firewhisky and skirting around their mutual attraction with Cora, watching her wet lips as she demurely drank her brandy, feeling intoxicated not only from the drink but from being so near to her, all the while thinking that all he had to do was lean forward and their lips would touch.

He had managed to stop himself from snogging her, but he hadn’t stopped her from brushing his hair back from his forehead or from standing enticingly between his outstretched legs.  And even as he assured her that he would never cheat on Rose, he had admitted, despite the overwhelming guilt he felt saying it aloud and meaning every word, that if he hadn’t been with Rose, he would have already fucked her at his earliest opportunity.

As soon as he said it, the atmosphere changed, and she became more openly flirty, whispering in his ear and touching him more boldly, even going so far as to skim his fingers along the insides of his thighs, dangerously close to his ever raging erection.  He had been so drunkenly engrossed with her and his randy thoughts, and when she declared herself too pissed to get herself home alone, Scorpius had laughingly agreed to escort her, all the while knowing that if he stepped foot inside her flat, he would end up in her bed.  And he hadn’t paid any attention to anyone else around them as he stood and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist under the guise of supporting her, his only thought had been about getting her out of there and alone and allowing _whatever_ to happen.

It was the gasp of surprise that first caught his attention, and Scorpius had immediately sobered when he came face to face with Rose, who was standing close enough to have seen plenty, and based upon the mixture of confusion, realization, and anger in her eyes, he knew that she’d seen more than enough.  He’d wanted to reach out to her but something had stopped him, and the look of anguish on her face as she turned and quickly exited through the door cut him to the core.

His thoughts were in turmoil as he’d followed her out the door and into an almost deserted Diagon Alley.  He understood that she was angry and disappointed with him – hell, he had been angry and disappointed with himself, too – and he’d Apparated at once to her flat in order to try and explain and set things straight.  But she had refused to listen and had practically ripped his grandmother’s necklace from her neck and forced him to take it back before she slammed the door in his face.  

She hadn’t spoken directly with him since, resisting his every effort to talk with her.  For the first five months, he tried, but she had ignored every owl, returned every gift, and done everything in her power to cut him out of her life, and when he discovered only a month ago that she had gone so far as to request that her uncle relocate her out of Britain, Scorpius lost any hope of winning her back.

The only bright spot – if he could call it that – was her categorical refusal to divulge to anyone why she and Scorpius were no longer together and why she was so intent upon leaving London, while he, in turn, had been forced to admit to his mother, without disclosing the entire truth, that Rose was gone and he didn’t know if or when she was returning and that if she did, she didn’t appear to be interested in returning to him.  

Of course, Asteria had blamed Rose for their split and he hadn’t corrected her, although even if he hadn’t said the words aloud, Scorpius knew it was entirely his fault, and he could sense that everyone else around him knew it too.  He’d needed to get away from it all by taking a few months’ leave, and his early attempts to rid himself of the pain by fucking his way around Europe, beginning with an uninspired and disappointingly unsatisfying roll with Cora, had only added to his shame, leaving him with a never-ending dull ache that could only be soothed by wanking to thoughts of Rose while getting pissed out of his mind, an occurrence which had increased as the months passed.

And his mind was consumed with her as he downed nearly an entire bottle of Firewhisky and tortured himself with memories of her as he came, his final thought before he passed out alone in his bed was how the hell had he allowed his life had become so fucking complicated and so fucking empty.

**_Part III – Paying the Price_ **

“Sod it all,” Rose murmured, sucking her left index finger into her mouth before it could bleed all over the parchments she’d been rifling through.  Bloodying up the notes that Lenore had been transcribing all week was all she needed on top of everything else.  Next thing, she’d be messing up the incantations taking them into the next level of tombs, setting them back even further, and incurring Natasha’s wrath.  No matter how likeable the dig supervisor assigned by Banca Osiguran, the Mediterranean equivalent of Gringotts was, another delay would be enough to drive her mental and that was something Rose most certainly did not want to do.

She glanced at her watch, noting that noon was looming ever closer.  She took a deep breath, which she let out slowly, wondering if it was too early for a glass – no, a bottle, _definitely a bottle_ – of Firewhisky – thinking that if there was ever a time to get pissed before lunch, this was it.

Alright, granted, she’d been unsuccessful to that point in finding anyone magical to help her decipher the scrolls her team had uncovered, and she knew that the goblins had been breathing down Bill’s neck and he, in turn, had been breathing down Natasha’s.  And seeing as Litochoro was quite possibly the least magically populated location she’d ever been and the prospects of locating someone magical who was proficient in that particular ancient form of Greek were next to none, she understood the necessity of bringing someone else in to translate and decode them.  But bloody hell, did it _have_ to be him?   Wasn’t there someone else – _anyone else_ – Bill could send?  Surely Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t the only goddamned translator Gringotts could get capable of breaking that fucking code.

It had taken her _months_ to stop thinking about him constantly and now, two and a half years since they’d broken up, she thought of him much less often and she’d even gone out on a few casual dates here and there, when the opportunity arose and her schedule allowed.  But she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind since late yesterday, when Natasha had called them all into a meeting and rather unenthusiastically advised them of Bill’s owl informing her that he couldn’t wait any longer for them to get into the innermost chamber of the tomb containing, if their theories were correct, artifacts belonging to Zeus himself, so Bill was sending someone he thought could help decode the scrolls, some bloke called Malfoy, who had apprenticed for eighteen months with Vladimir Petrov, one of the world’s most well-versed experts in ancient languages and semiotics, and was apparently becoming quite proficient in the field himself.

Always the consummate professional, Rose had managed to hide her shock and maintain her composure as Natasha continued, with a roll of her eyes, that Bill – _the bloody fucking arsehole_ , Rose added mentally – was rather confident with this Malfoy’s abilities on other projects and was certain that he was up to the challenge and could contribute immediately.  And when Natasha held her back after dismissing Lenore and Javan for the day and requested that she be the one to meet him upon his arrival at noon the following day to escort him to the dig site near the peak of Mount Olympus, mentioning that it had been Bill’s idea, Rose had numbly acquiesced, deciding that the next time she saw her uncle, she was going to hex his fucking bollocks off.

The calm she’d exhibited in front of her team, however, in no way reflected the inner turmoil she was feeling, knowing that in only a matter of hours, she would be seeing Scorpius again.  She’d had no illusions that she was over him – hell, she wasn’t sure that she would ever be completely over him – but she hadn’t seen him in nearly a year, hadn’t been alone with him since the night they broke up, and she had finally exorcised him from her thoughts every day and her dreams every night.  And now she was faced with the knowledge that he was coming, that he would actually _be there_ , intruding upon her life and invading her heart once more, and she would be forced to work in close quarters with him for who the hell knew how long, all the old hurt and anger and lingering desires would be resurfacing.

She’d tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to sleep properly as vivid memories flooded her mind – painful and extremely erotic – reminding Rose yet again of all they’d shared and everything they’d lost.  She’d arrived at the work site before dawn in a particularly foul mood and even Lenore, who could almost always elicit a smile from anyone, had been on the blunt end of Rose’s temper, and the other three members of her team had seemed quite relieved to leave her behind awaiting Scorpius’s arrival.  And so she was waiting for him in Natasha’s makeshift office about twenty meters from the base of the mountain, sucking hard on her finger, trying to concentrate on the irritation of the paper cut rather than the biting anxiety gnawing at her and absolutely regretting not begging off Natasha’s request.  

She _did not_ want to do this.  She wasn’t sure that she could watch him walk into that too small, too claustrophobic tent and pretend as if he meant nothing to her. 

Distractedly, she made to place the parchments onto Natasha’s desk, sighing heavily and cursing under her breath when they fell to the floor.  She bent down to pick them up, startling and hitting her head on the edge of Natasha’s desk at the sound of his voice.

“Natasha Giordiano?”

Rose ran her fingers through her hair as she stood and took a deep breath before turning around to face him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Scorpius arrived at the Apparation point and glanced at his watch, determined not to be late.  Bill had been adamant about the importance of this particular assignment, and since Scorpius had spent the last two years of his life busting his arse to prove to Weasley that he was serious about his career, he had no intention of letting the man down.  

He readjusted his rucksack and ran his hands through his hair before plastering his most professional smile on his face as he pushed open the flaps to the tent, his eyes immediately focusing appreciatively on the shapely backside of the woman he presumed would be his contact on this project. 

“Natasha Giordiano?”

She jerked and hit her head on the wooden desk as she stood, and when she turned around, his breath caught.

_Bill Weasley, you stupid fucking wanker!_ he thought, and for one brief moment, he actually considered whether it would be worth going to Azkaban for using _Avada Kedavra_ on Gringotts’ senior supervisor.

“Hello, Scorpius,” Rose said quietly, dropping a stack of parchments onto the desk but not making any move toward him.  “Welcome to Mount Olympus.”  

“Um…hello, Rose,” he managed, sure that he was failing miserably at his attempts to regain his composure, but she was the very last person he would have expected to be there and he was overwhelmed to see her.  “I – I never expected –” he glanced around the tent.  “What are you doing here?  Bill said I was to meet Natasha Giordiano at this location at noon –”

“Yes, well, sorry to disappoint.  I know you were expecting Natasha, but she asked me to stay below and bring you up to the dig site once you’d arrived, so…there you have it.”  She paused and he got the impression that she wanted to say something more but she simply shrugged and stared at him.

He shook his head.  “No, it isn’t…I’m not disappointed.  But…I wasn’t aware that you were here, that you were the charms specialist on this dig,” he explained.

She arched her eyebrow and gave him a quizzical look.  “Bill didn’t tell you that we’d be working together?”

“Must’ve slipped his mind,” Scorpius muttered sarcastically under his breath as he glanced around the small tent before returning his gaze to Rose.  She was no longer watching him and was, instead, tossing a few items into a small rucksack, but it gave him the opportunity to study her surreptitiously for a moment.  He couldn’t help noticing that she’d cut her hair, which was now above her shoulders but still as curly as ever, and she looked older in the way she carried herself and seemed more confident.  But she was even more beautiful than he remembered her being, if that was possible and, judging by the tight clothing she was wearing, she appeared to be even more fit than before, and Scorpius shifted slightly, scolding his body and fighting against the erection he was now sporting.

“I suppose he had his reasons,” Rose replied, pulling the rucksack closed and turning back to face him.  “We only learned you were coming last evening ourselves.”  She cleared her throat before continuing, “So let’s get down to business…I’m sure Bill briefed you on the dig particulars?”

He straightened his shoulders and nodded.  “You’ve discovered scrolls believed to have belonged to Hermes in one of the mid-level chambers, but they contain symbols and languages you can’t translate, and you haven’t found any magical locals around to assist you.  There are one or two Muggles potentially capable of doing so, but since they’re completely unaware that the former inhabitants of the mountain were wizards rather than gods, you’d be forced to _Obliviate_ them, and no one, especially Bill, wants to get his arse in trouble with the Ministry.  Especially one Hermione Weasley,” he added with a smirk, pleased when a slight grin appeared on her lips, and he was mesmerized by the tip of her tongue sliding slowly across her lips before she spoke, her tone completely business-like.

“Good to know you still catch on quickly.  Natasha and the others are waiting for you up at the dig site, so you can drop your rucksack here,” she glanced at the bag slung over his shoulder and gestured to the floor near the entrance to the tent, “and we’ll get going.  I’m sure you’re anxious to get a look at the scrolls.  They’re really quite fascinating.” 

He nodded and dropped his bag to the ground, his eyes not leaving hers, and he was quite sure that however fascinating those scrolls might be, they wouldn’t come close to measuring up to her.  Somehow, despite not having talked to her since…for years…and only seeing her in passing once or twice over that time, he was still in love with her.  Of that, Scorpius was certain and he simply couldn’t stop himself from saying, “It’s been a long time, Rose.  How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been fine.  I’m fine,” she answered dismissively as she turned toward the desk and began rummaging through the parchments.  “And you?” she asked, not glancing his way.  “You’re looking well.”

He watched her remove two rolls from the stack and fold them haphazardly before she shoved them into the back pocket of her trousers and turned back to face him, wearing that same blank expression on her face. 

He wanted to be truthful.  He wanted to tell her that he’d been quite well right up until the moment he’d stepped foot into that tent a few minutes before and come face to face with her.  But now, after seeing her again and feeling the rush of passion and remorse that he’d been fighting for years, all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, kiss her with all his pent-up frustrations and longing, and never, ever, let her out of his life again.  But the look on her face stopped him and he answered simply, “I’ve no complaints.”

“Glad to hear it,” she replied, a less than genuine grin on her lips as she brushed past him briskly, motioning for him to follow.  “Come along then.  We mustn’t keep everyone waiting any longer than we already have.”

~*~*~*~*~

Ten days later, Scorpius sat alone at the bar of the Mirto Hotel, the Muggle inn where he’d been staying for the duration of his time in Litochoro, downing a Tsipouro, which the barman had assured him would ease whatever ailed him. 

The site was incredible, one of the most fascinating he’d ever been to.  And now, knowing the history of the mountain – the Muggle mythology surrounding it and the stories of the wizards and witches who had inhabited it centuries ago – Scorpius had become even more enamored with the location and he anticipated making a return trip on a holiday in the near future.  

And the work itself had been fascinating.  Of course, there were the scrolls he had deciphered and he thought back to that first day, when he’d first got his hands on them – clearly ancient and containing the most complicated codes he’d seen to date, a mixture of several extinct languages and symbols far beyond simple runes.  But Scorpius had learned a great deal from Vlad, the best in the business as far as many were concerned, and he’d managed to finish his translations the previous day, allowing the others to make their final preparations and enter the inner chamber earlier that day.  Not to mention the sights which had welcomed them when they stepped into the inner chamber containing countless artifacts and Scorpius had been overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it. 

He had been perfectly well aware that this was a dream assignment, one which would make or break his career, and he was more than appreciative of the opportunity Bill had presented him with.  But that didn’t change the fact that Scorpius was still furious as hell with him.  _What the fuck_ was Bill thinking, sending him on this assignment without warning that Rose was here, knowing everything he did about their past relationship?  There was no possible way that it merely slipped Bill’s mind that Rose was the charms specialist on this dig; how could Bill fail to disclose such pertinent information during their four hour briefing the day before he’d arrived?

Scorpius sighed heavily as he reflected upon the past ten days and her reaction to his presence.  While the others had been more than pleasant, Rose had barely given him the time of day for the first two.  He’d attempted several times to make conversation, only to be practically ignored, seeing as he refused to consider her one syllable “hmms” as responses, but the longer he was around her, the more her silent treatment chaffed his arse.  So at the end of the second day – a long, hot, tiring day in which he’d been subjected to her unresponsiveness in close quarters and decided he’d had enough – he’d confronting her in a somewhat harsher manner than he’d intended, telling her that she needed to grow up and demanding that she  _attempt_ to be professional and at least speak to him so that they could perform their jobs accordingly.

He'd seen the fight in her eyes, and he'd almost welcomed it, hoping to get _some_ sort of emotional reaction from her rather than the stiff indifference she'd treated him with since his arrival.  But just as quickly as he saw it, it was gone, and she’d nodded, calmly agreeing that yes, he was right, that they had to be able to get along, and she would do her part.  And true to her word, since that evening, the two of them had worked together surprisingly well, although she had, more than once, quickly halted all attempts by him to move beyond strictly professional to personal.

But it hadn’t stopped him from trying…trying to be friendly, trying to engage her, trying to somehow break through that wall she’d erected and make her see that he wasn’t the same spoiled, unsure, immature boy he’d been before.  Of course, he might have continued along that path had he not, late one evening several months into his ‘leave of absence’ from his job and his real life, glanced down to the other end of a bar in Romania and seen none other than Bill Weasley throwing back a Firewhisky.  And had he not been pissed out of his mind, Scorpius might have realized that it was _a very bad idea_ to make his presence known.  But such was not the case and he’d gestured to the barkeep and sent a round Bill’s way before brazenly sauntering – or perhaps, stumbling – over to join him.  

To say Weasley had been surprised to see him would have been an understatement and Scorpius had been taken aback by his expression when he returned Scorpius’s greeting, all levity leaving his eyes as he almost immediately questioned Scorpius about what the hell he was planning to do with his life, whether he was planning to return to Gringotts or whether he was content to live off his parents and piss his talent away.

Bill’s remark about his talent had caught him off-guard, and before he knew it, Scorpius was downing ale and, forgetting that the man was not only his superior but more importantly, _Rose’s uncle_ , he began spilling his soul about everything that had happened – how he’d given Rose his grandmother’s necklace but made the mistake of disclosing that fact to his mother and how she’d pressured him constantly about marrying Rose and how bloody attracted to Cora he’d been and how uncertain he’d felt about his commitment to Rose and how he’d royally fucked things up with her by not actually cheating on her but knowing that he would have had she not caught him and jumped to the conclusions she had.  And he’d admitted to being _bored out of his mind_ with his current lifestyle and lack of direction and he’d wanted to go back to Gringotts but he hadn’t been ready to face what he’d done or Bill to that point, but if Weasley was willing to allow him to return after all he’d just learned, Scorpius was more than ready. 

Even more unexpected than his compliment had been the fact that, although he looked as if he dearly wanted to, Bill hadn’t slugged him, although he had stonily informed Scorpius that yes, he had indeed broken Rose’s heart but she had never disclosed to anyone how or why, and he was greatly disappointed in the cowardly way Scorpius had fled, even though he hadn’t had the same condemnation for Rose and her need to stay out of London, which Bill relayed had been a source of great contention for Rose’s dad and grandmother.  His tone had then softened slightly and he’d actually been sympathetic, confiding that he understood being pressured to settle down with someone before he was ready, letting Scorpius in on the fact that his own mother had apparently been quite adamant at one point about Bill settling down with his girlfriend from Hogwarts before finally accepting the woman he’d married.  And he’d fixed Scorpius with a stern gaze as he swallowed down his last gulp of Firewhisky and stood to go, explaining that his brother was waiting on him and instructing Scorpius to sober up, get his arse back to London, and get on with his life.

As directed, Scorpius had been in Bill’s office precisely at nine o’clock the following morning, thankful, not for the first time, that Hangover Potion worked so well.  Bill had been in full superior mode and advised Scorpius that Gringotts was in need of an extinct and ancient languages translator, introducing him to Vladimir Petrov and informing Scorpius that if he wanted to remain employed with Gringotts, he would be training with Petrov for the next two years.

Scorpius hadn’t been chuffed at the prospect at first; even though Ancient Runes had been his best subject at school, he found it terribly tedious and he wasn’t sure he wanted to spend the next several years of his life translating ancient _anything_.  Once again, however, he’d been mistaken, finding Vlad an infuriating wanker but recognizing that he was also the most brilliant man Scorpius had ever met and the only teacher he felt had actually taught him anything, and he’d breezed through his apprenticeship, cutting the projected two years down to eighteen months.  And in the process, he’d earned not only the respect of his mentor, but that of Bill Weasley, who had been more than enthusiastic about sending Scorpius on several small projects over the following months before approaching him with this extremely important – and lucrative – assignment.  

But now that it was finished, Scorpius wasn’t at all ready to leave.

“Fuck,” Scorpius grumbled, closing his eyes and dropping his head into his hands on the bar.  He took a deep breath when he heard someone taking the seat next to his, not at all in the mood to be charming.

“And here I would’ve thought you’d learned better than to have a one-track mind at this point in your life.”

His eyes shot open and his head jerked around immediately to find Rose facing forward, nodding in his direction as she spoke to the man tending bar.  “I’ll have what he’s having,” she said.

“Tsipouro,” Scorpius replied.  With a smile, the barkeep poured another and slid it in front of her before moving back down to the other end of the bar.  “Well?” he prompted as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip.  “What do you think?”

“I have to admit, I’ve developed quite a taste for it these past few weeks.  I’ll miss it when I go home.”  A small smile graced her lips.  “Here’s to you.”  She touched the rim of her glass to his and took a drink.  “Brilliant work on the scrolls.”

“To you as well,” he offered.  “Very impressive spellwork.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and he was happy to see that she looked genuinely pleased as she finished off that drink and requested another, directing the barman to leave the bottle.

Scorpius arched an eyebrow at her, knowing how the alcohol was affecting him and recalling that she did not have a particularly strong tolerance for drinking.  He was also fairly confused that Rose was there and didn’t seem particularly eager to leave.  She had repeatedly rebuffed his attempts to be friendly for the duration of his assignment and yet, here she was, having chosen to sit down next to him in this nearly empty restaurant and share a drink.  He wasn’t sure what she was playing at, but he truly hoped that she was finally ready to be friends again, that she was ready to talk and, more importantly, that she was ready to listen to what he had to say.  And although he wasn’t entirely sure where to begin, he’d at least had enough liquid courage to go with whatever came to mind.

“You _do_ realize you’ve broken your own rule by drinking with me.  One might mistake us for friends.”

She stared at him for a moment then back to her glass.  “We are friends, Scorpius,” she said softly, and he tried not to stare as she slid her fingertips up and down her glass, and he took a deep breath, feeling himself harden as memories of precisely what she could do with those fingers ran through his mind.  “And since we’ll most likely be working together more often once I go back to London –”

“You’re going back to London?” he asked quizzically.

Rose nodded.  “I’ve been thinking of it for some time, and my parents have been pressuring me to come home for longer than a week or two between digs or over holidays.  So when Lily asked if I wanted to share her new flat, I agreed.”

Scorpius swallowed hard, sure that the rush of adrenaline shooting through him had very little to do with the drink sliding down his throat and everything to do with the knowledge that she was going back.

“So I’ll be here for another week or two,” she continued, “categorizing and doing an inventory of the tomb but then I’m hanging it up for a while and getting reacquainted with my office.  What about you?  What’s next for you?  Another exciting assignment?" 

He shook his head.  “No, it’s back to London for me as well.  Bill’s having me work with Dennis on the tablets for his dig later in the month.”

“Dennis,” she said teasingly, waggling her eyebrows and giggling.  She shook her head at Scorpius’s odd look.  “I don’t know him well, but Lily says he has a brilliant mind and she’s unbelievably impressed with his abilities.”  

“Ah,” he said before taking another drink.  “For the record, I have it on good authority that he is more than a bit taken with her as well.”

“Good to know,” Rose smiled.  “You’ve done quite well for yourself, haven’t you?  Training with Vladimir Petrov…that’s quite an accomplishment.”  She took a deep breath and fixed him with another intent gaze.  “No wonder Bill’s so impressed.”

“He hasn’t always been impressed,” Scorpius muttered.  “In fact, it’s due to your uncle that I’m even here.”

Rose looked at him questioningly.  “How’s that?”

He paused, unsure precisely how much he needed to tell her before figuring that if it got too personal, she would stop him anyway.  “At the end of my…sabbatical, I sort of…encountered him in Romania and we both set the record straight.” 

“What does that mean, you both set the record straight?” she asked almost timidly, studying her glass keenly.

“He told me it was time to stop being a fuckup and get my arse in line, and I...well, I finally owned up to my mistakes.”

She slowly turned to him, her eyes wide.  “What did you…what does that mean?”

“I told him everything.  About that night and how I'd messed up and that it was entirely my fault that you'd gone.”  

Her look of disbelief gave way to a nervous giggle.  “And how is it you’re still breathing?”

Scorpius chuckled lightly.  “Beats the bloody hell out of me.  He was right furious, to say the least, and I expected him to royally kick my arse, but he took pity on me, I suppose; could see how sorry I was and heard me out.”

She sat in what he presumed was stunned silence and he took the opportunity to continue talking until she stopped him.  “I wish you’d…if only you’d listened to me that night.  The minute I saw you standing there...it was as if I was in a fog or a trance, and seeing you snapped me out of it.  If you hadn’t left, perhaps we could have cleared things up…not wasted so much time –”

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” she asked testily, and he quickly replied, “No!  No, of course not.  But if you’d listened to me then, if you hadn’t run away –” 

“I _did not_ run away,” she insisted.  “I’d been speaking with Bill about taking some on-site projects anyway.  Besides, what do you call what you did?  Taking off and attempting to shag your way across Europe –”

“Alright,” he said defensively.  “We _both_ acted impetuously and immaturely.  But you couldn’t possibly understand the pressure I was under, trying to please my mother –”

Rose huffed.  “No, I couldn’t _possibly_ understand the pressure of trying to live up to your family.  Or have you forgot who _my_ parents are?”

“Point taken.”  He took a deep breath and sighed heavily as he let it out.  “But that was then.  What about now?”

“What about it?” she asked with a heavy sigh.

“Rose, I –”

She shook her head and held up her hand before lifting the glass to her lips and drinking the last of the Tsipouro.  The hope he’d felt earlier faded when she pushed back from the bar and stood.  Fuck it all, hadn’t he paid for his bad judgment?  Would he have to pay for the rest of his bloody life for a few moments of immature indecision two and a half years ago?  He knew his panic over settling down – and the more pressure he’d felt from his mother to propose, the more panicked he’d become – had led, in large part, to his unfortunate infatuation with Cora.  But how much more did he have to suffer?  He’d lost her once, after all – his girlfriend, his best friend, the only woman he ever really loved – and wasted several months after getting pissed out of his mind and fucking any woman who spread her legs for him, all the while desperately wanting _only her_.  And here she was, walking out on him yet again.

Scorpius reached out and took her by the arm.  “Don’t go.  Please.  I want to –”

“We can’t…I can’t…” her voice drifted off and she looked toward the door before looking back to him imploringly.  “Can’t we just focus on being friends for now?  Isn’t that enough?”

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and he watched her slip through the door, convinced that it wasn’t enough but knowing that it had to be, and before he could stop himself, he’d finished off the bottle, stumbled upstairs, and passed out into a restless sleep, completely unaware that Rose had managed to hold her feelings in check only long enough to Apparate to her flat before completely breaking down the minute she appeared inside, falling to the floor where she’d landed, burying her head in her hands, and sobbing like she hadn’t allowed herself to do in longer than she could remember.

**_Part IV – Long Overdue_ **

Lily Potter was deep in research mode when she heard the outer door to her team’s office slam shut and footsteps stomping down the corridor.  She looked up as her cousin entered the cubicle they shared, muttering under her breath. 

“That bloody git!” Rose fumed as she slammed a roll of parchment on her desk and practically threw herself into her chair.

It was just as Lily had expected – Rose was in a snit about something – and judging by the look on her face, the story promised to be fraught with drama.

“Who has your knickers in a twist this time?” Lily asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her cousin admit it.

“Well, Bill is the bloody git, but of course, it’s all due to Malfoy, who else!” Rose huffed.  She glared at Lily across the desktop.  “I don’t know what our uncle is trying to prove, but it’s not happening.  He’s going to have to transfer Malfoy to another project because I simply _cannot_ work with that man one minute longer.”  She rustled the papers on her desk and muttered, “ _Sweet Merlin_ , I need a drink.”

“What’s he done now?” Lily asked.

Rose huffed again.  “You know that note I got from Bill, right after lunch?”

Lily nodded.  “Yeah.”

“So, when I get to his office, who is there but _Malfoy_.  And just guess who’s accompanying me to Giza next week.”  Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head, letting out an angry breath.  “Of all the people he could team me with, why him?  Why the one person in this whole office that he knows I can’t stand?”

Lily returned Rose’s frustrated look with one of sympathetic disbelief.  _Can’t stand?_ she thought.  Who did Rose think she was kidding?  She’d dated Scorpius Malfoy when they were in school and for a year or so after but they’d broken up badly, having only recently become friends again.  And as far as Lily was concerned, it was high time Rose accepted what was painfully obvious to everyone else around them – that she was still in love with him, just as he was still, clearly and openly, in love with her.

“C’mon, Rose.  You knew Bill had narrowed it down to either Scorpius or Dennis.  They’ve both been prepping for weeks.”

“I know, but –”

“And Scorpius is the better suited of the two, having been on two of these digs before.”

“True, but –”

“ _And_ this dig is important so Bill’s going to assign his best team.”

Rose pursed her lips as she reluctantly admitted, “Yes.”

“So it isn’t all that surprising, is it?”

“No, alright.  But still,” Rose paused, and Lily knew she was choosing her words carefully, “I _can’t_ be in such close quarters with him, Lils.  I just can’t.”

The aching was evident in Rose’s voice, and it struck Lily that it was quite possibly the first time she’d ever seen her cousin so vulnerable.

“This is me you’re talking to, Rose.  Your partner.  Your flatmate.  Your best friend.  Your cousin.  It’s okay to admit it.  You’re still not over him, are you?”

“It isn’t about ‘being over him’,”  Rose mumbled, once again nervously rearranging the parchments on her desk.

“I know he hurt you before, but you have to admit he’s changed.  And you really should clear the air before you’re forced to spend weeks alone in a hot, sweltering tomb –”

“Honestly, Lily.  That’s all ancient history.”

“It isn’t ancient history if you’re still in love with him.”

“And that doesn’t answer the question, does it?”

Both Lily and Rose looked up at the doorway, and Rose gasped.  Scorpius was leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes locked on Rose.

“Are you?” he demanded in a low voice as he walked inside.  “Are you really over me?”  He stopped directly in front of her desk and leaned down, placing his hands on the surface, his eyes never leaving her.  

“I –” Rose paused, biting her lip nervously as she stared back at him.  

“I still love you, Rose.  If you are, I promise never to try again, and I’ll have Bill move me to another division.  But if not –”

The room felt very small, and Lily knew she was intruding on a moment that she needn’t be.  “I should leave you two alone,” she said quietly as she stood, although she wondered if either of them even remembered she was even in the room.

Lily had just slipped out the door when she heard Rose whisper a simple, “No,” and she closed the door quietly behind her.

Rose and Scorpius needed a little privacy for this conversation which was long overdue.

About three years overdue. 

**_Part V – A New Beginning_ **

“Kiss me again,” Rose pleaded breathlessly, clutching tightly to his shirt collar, and without hesitation, Scorpius lowered his head and his lips met hers for another long-awaited kiss.

He almost couldn’t believe they were _here_ , snogging in the middle of her office.  That Rose was in his arms again, her hands clutching his face as her tongue stroked his.  That she had pressed herself as tightly against him as she could, when only ten minutes earlier, she’d stormed out the door to Bill’s office in a right snit, mumbling, “What have I done to deserve this?”

Rose’s less than enthusiastic response to her uncle’s announcement that Scorpius would be accompanying her on her trip to Giza had been the final straw.  He had expected, after all, that she would be somewhat happy about the news, although he hadn’t really believed she would be as thrilled about it as he was.  But her less than receptive reaction had confirmed the hot and cold, sometimes comfortable, sometimes tenuous nature of their friendship or relationship or whatever it was, and Scorpius had exited Weasley’s office almost immediately after she had, striding purposefully down the corridor to her team’s office, dead-set on confronting her.

He’d purposely taken things slowly upon her return to London and focused on rebuilding their friendship.  But over the course of those six months since she’d come home from Mount Olympus, the two of them had spent a significant amount of time together, and they had gone out several times, albeit most often as part of their larger group.  Still, she’d grown more and more receptive to his friendship as the months had passed and as she had allowed him to get closer to her again, Scorpius had been more than a little encouraged and upped his efforts to win her back. 

Of late, he had been more than clear about his feelings and intentions where she was concerned, and no matter how adept she was at keeping hers at bay, he was fairly certain that her feelings for him ran deep, a belief enforced by the kiss they’d nearly shared two nights before, when he’d escorted her home from a night out with their team and she’d hugged him good night tighter than usually and her lips had lingered against his skin as she’d kissed his cheek, millimeters from the edge of his mouth.  After, their eyes had locked, and it had taken a great deal of restraint for Scorpius not to crush his lips to hers, and she had slowly extricated herself from his arms and quietly wished him “Good evening,” and he’d stood there for several minutes, staring at her closed door, wanting more…always wanting more.

Scorpius had nodded hurriedly at Kevin Bode sitting at the first desk in her team’s outer office.  He was going to make Rose say it – whatever she was feeling – although he wasn’t sure how precisely.  But he couldn’t take the torture of it any longer, and his mind was made up:  she was going to decide where they would go from here and she was going to do it now.  Either it was time for them to move forward or time for him to move on.  He still loved her but he wasn’t going to continue holding out hope that she would come around if she had no intentions of reconciling with him.

His suspicions that Rose was relaying the events of their meeting with Bill Weasley to her cousin had been confirmed and he’d stopped at the doorway of the office area Rose shared with Lily just in time to overhear her say that Scorpius was the one person in their division she couldn’t tolerate.

Even as Scorpius reminded himself that she hadn’t meant it, her words had stung, and had he not detected a tone of longing in Rose’s voice, he might have walked away.  But there had been no mistaking the yearning, and he’d chanced a peek around the doorframe to find her sitting behind her desk, chewing nervously on her fingernail as she stared out of the window, not meeting Lily’s sympathetic gaze as she urged Rose to admit her feelings…to admit that she wasn’t over him.

At this, Scorpius’s focus had returned exclusively to Rose; she had started fiddling with the parchments on her desk and he had just barely heard her mumble, “It isn’t about ‘being over him’.”

Lily had replied with an obvious tone of utter disbelief, “I know he hurt you before, but you have to admit he’s changed. And you really should clear the air before you’re forced to spend weeks alone in a hot, sweltering tomb –” and Scorpius had made a mental note to anonymously send her flowers in the coming weeks for having spoken on his behalf, while at the same time, he’d fought off very randy thoughts of several things he would like to do if he had Rose alone in a hot, sweltering tomb, and chided himself that now was definitely _not_ the time for that, although he desperately hoped that there would be a time for that in the future.

Her comment that it was all “ancient history” had struck another raw nerve and, deciding that it was a golden opportunity to get things out in the open, he’d stepped into the doorway and leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest.  He was prepared to interrupt them when Lily had retorted that it wasn’t ancient history if Rose was still in love with him, and Scorpius wondered if, perhaps, she had seen him standing there; it was almost as if she had been aware of his presence, having provided him with an even more perfect segue, one he didn’t intend to ignore.

“And that doesn’t answer the question, does it?” he had asked boldly, staring intently at Rose, who had turned his way and gasped as he’d crossed the room, stopped in front of her desk, and leaned over it, his face only centimeters from hers as he’d demanded that she answer the question.  

She had stammered, her cheeks flushed, nervously – _sexily_ – biting her lip, and he had seen the desire in her eyes as he’d proclaimed his love for her and offered to move to another division if she didn’t return his feelings, and the sight of her shaking her head when she’d whispered, very simply, “No,” sent blood rushing through his body.  

“‘No’?  No _what_?” he’d pressed, barely hearing his own words from the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

She’d paused for a split second then she answered quietly, standing slowly, her eyes never leaving his as she rounded her desk to stand face to face with him, “No, I don’t want you to ask Bill to move you to another division.  No, it isn’t ancient history.”  She took a deep breath, licked her lips nervously, and said more decisively,  “And…no, I’m not over you.”  

She’d barely got the words out before he’d hauled her into his arms, his breath catching when his lips touched hers for the first time in years, and he had been unable to refrain from groaning as he cupped her face and deepened the kiss.  

He was almost afraid he was dreaming.  She felt fucking incredible in his arms and Scorpius knew it would take every ounce of willpower he possessed not to rush things with her, not to do anything to disrupt the intense attraction between them in fear that she might change her mind and pull away from him again, and not to push her down on that desk, bury himself inside her, and fuck her until they were both spent and sated.

Scorpius had groaned in protest when Rose broke their kiss and murmured, “Lily,” against his lips.  He’d turned to find that Lily was no longer in the room, that the door to the office had been closed, and that he and Rose were utterly and perfectly alone.

“She’s gone,” he’d muttered in response, immensely surprised when she’d grabbed his shirt collar and demanded that he kiss her again, which he was currently doing, trying not to be distracted by her hands, which had slipped inside his waistband and were gripping his arse tightly, or by the fact that his fingers were beginning to slowly unbutton her blouse.

At that, Rose pulled away from him, breathing heavily as she ran a hand through her hair.  “Scorpius…not –”

“God, Rose, I’m sorry…” he stammered, mentally berating himself for moving too quickly.

Rose shook her head.  “No,” she put her fingers over his lips.  “I wonder if perhaps we shouldn’t…this isn’t the best place to –”

“Come with me,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the Floo at the other end of her office.  He tossed a handful of Floo Powder into it and pulled her tightly against him.  “Number Two Kensington Place.”

They had barely stepped foot inside his flat before they were kissing once more and within seconds, Rose was yanking his shirt over his head and Scorpius resumed his task of removing her blouse, quickly slipping it off her shoulders and unceremoniously dropping it and her bra to the floor.  He growled and paused only momentarily before flicking one of her nipples with his tongue.

“Scorpius,” she rasped, and the sound of her moaning his name was more than he could withstand.  He cupped her arse and lifted her up, greatly encouraged when she wrapped her legs around his waist as he weaved his way to his bedroom, muttering, “You’re so fucking beautiful,” and nipping at the nape of her neck.  “So fucking beautiful.”

“So are you,” she purred, and he shivered when rubbed her bare chest against his and ran her tongue lightly along the shell of his ear.

When he felt his legs hit the side of the bed, he sat her down atop it, his breath catching when she immediately reached for the zipper on his trousers, quickly dispensing with his pants and sliding his cock between her lips.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered between deep breaths and moans, nearly coming undone at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, coupled with the fact that it felt _bloody incredible_ , and he steadied himself by grabbing hold of the bedpost, his other hand threading into her hair as she greedily sucked and licked him, bringing him to the edge in mere moments.

But there was no fucking way he was going to allow himself to come before being inside her.  “Rose,” he panted, stilling her head.  “Stop.”  

He stepped back, forcing her to release him, and practically ripped her trousers and knickers down her legs before spreading them widely and burying his tongue inside her.  Encouraged by the series of gasps and moans and curses he elicited from her as she moved beneath him, Scorpius clutched her thighs, holding her steady against her movements, and teased her, moving his tongue over her and inside her, thoroughly relishing her taste and smell and taking great pleasure in the knowledge that _he_ was bringing her closer and closer to orgasm, his cock throbbing when she came, calling his name loudly.

“Come up here,” she tugged on his hair and he gazed momentarily at her lying on his bed, spread out wantonly for him, her hair mussed, her face flushed, her mouth open, her breasts heaving, and he complied, kissing her deeply as he thrust inside of her and each of them groaned into the other’s open mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Rose gasped.  She arched up against him and wrapped her legs around his hips as her fingernails dug into his triceps.  “Oh my god, Scorpius.  So good…”

_My thoughts exactly_ , Scorpius thought as he withdrew slowly before almost roughly entering her again and again, his unintelligible mutters the only sounds he was capable of making at the moment.  It had been too long, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.  Granted, he hadn’t slept with anyone in more than two years, but it had been over three since he and Rose had last been together…three years since he’d felt anything this incredible, and when she clutched his arse and moaned, “Harder, Scorpius…fuck me harder,” he felt his balls tightening and he plunged inside her one last time, coming harder than he ever remembered coming in his entire life.

“I love you,” he murmured as he collapsed to her side as he caught his breath and pulled her against his chest.  

“I’ve missed this,” she said softly, gently threading her fingers through the hair on his chest.  “It’s been a long time…”

“Too long,” he agreed, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand as he fought to keep his expression neutral.  “So where does this leave us, Rose?” he demanded, his voice sounding gruffer than he’d intended.  Yes, they’d just had sex – heart-stopping, amazing sex – but Rose had always been an enthusiastic lover and Scorpius had had enough meaningless fucks to know that her admission that she had feelings for him was eons apart from her acting upon them and getting back together with him.  And he _had_ to know if this was simply a one-off or if they were only moving to the title of friends with benefits or if this marked a new beginning for them.  “Where do we go from here?”

Rose inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, trailing her fingertips along his jaw and over his lips.  “I…I’m still in love with you, Scorpius.”  Her voice broke and she swallowed, blinking back tears.  “I think we should…I’d like to give it another go.”

“This,” he motioned between them, “or us?”

“Both,” she answered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Scorpius exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  “Yes,” he murmured, lowering his lips to hers and kissing her tenderly, and as she wrapped her arms and legs around him and rolled him over onto his back, he thanked his lucky stars that she was back in his life and vowed that, this time, it would be for good.  


End file.
